entrancelogs | Holding Down The Fort

Entry tags:

Holding Down The Fort

Who:Dean Winchester [

viva_la_impala],Rizelle [

marionetteweb],Russia [

sunflowersunday],Nikki [

rvolutionaryboy],Saffron[

cunningcleavage] and Anyone Else Who Shows Up
WhereThe Main Foyer/Hall
When:During all the Hullabaloo
Rating:R for mouths,mirrors,and violence [preemptive]
Summary:Dean is holding down the fort, Mad Martigan style.
the Story:

Dean wasn't one to swallow lectures while holding his tongue, but he figured Sam had been entitled when he'd gone off on Dean about getting himself killed by ghosts. The younger Winchester often railed agaisnt the older, but it was usually a verbal sparring match. This time Dean had kept the biting sarcasm back, or rather he hadn't had to, it wasn't there. He owed it to Sam to let his brother worry. He'd have done the exact same thing. And it was Sam's angry puppy eyes that had made Dean promise to say on the "real" side of the mirrors.

Besides, he had a plan. Using pieces of scrap metal he'd pawned from the vendors Dean had fashioned a Knight of Mirrors type outfit. The way he figured it, mirrors would come at him, see their reflections in one of the shiney surfaces and poof!back to their own side. At least in theory that was what was supposed to happen.

Still, he kept a number of hand mirrors on himself, including on looped around is wrist with a leather thong so it couldn't be knocked from his hand. It was his job to hold down the fort here, he'd made that promise to Haruhi and goddamn he was going to do it. He'd set up base camp in the Main Hall. It just seemed like the place where shit might start. A chair and a cooler full of beer, soda, and sandwhiches sat beside his private arsenal. This was going to be a long vigil.

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It certainly was an interesting night for Russia. Most of his fellow countries had gone to the other side on their rescue mission, leaving him with their mirrors. Of course, he didn't regret not taking part on America's heroic mission. He was curious about these mirrors, and quite frankly, it gave him sick pleasure that America would be subjected to the pink-scarfed monstrosity that wore his face.

He was neither surprised nor frightened when the mirrors began to threaten and taunt him. He was not only powerful, he was real. Russia may have pitied them if he didn't find them so annoying.

Russia smiled to himself. It was also simpler this way. Now he had a running list of who would be the first to be purged when Wonderland becomes his.

As he rounded the corner to the Main Hall--on the way to the kitchen to take a few new bottles of vodka for such a special occasion--he came across... well. What the fuck. Dean? Russia blinked, the smile slipping from his face in confusion.

"...is there a reason why you are dressed like that?"

Dean knew that in appearance he looked patently rediculous, but if the suit worked in theory it would be completely worth it. However, he felt his cheeks burn with embarassment as Russia looked at him like he was the crazy one and not the other way around. That was annoying.

"Yes. It's reflective! If a mirror looks at it they'll bamf back to the other side....In theory anyway. And anyway don't look at ME like I'M a nut you crazy Russian!"

About... twenty-four, that must have been how old the one who approached looked. He wore a trench coat over his kind of raggedy clothing. He carried with him a fair bit of firepower, wielding a moderately large rifle he'd pawned off one of the dealers; in his coat he concealed another weapon, smaller but definitely also quite deadly; a silsnced gun made for covert assassinations.

He sat down not far from the site of the stakeout. "So," he said, "how's the shit."

The man that approached him had seasoned hunter written all over him, from the way he dressed, for efficient movement, to the way he walked, tense and ready to move in any direction. Dean sized him up appreciatively, taking note of the rifle's size and efficiency. The man looked like he could use it. When he sat down and simply asked a question Dean took it in stride. This was war. You didn't always get the luxury of knowing the names of your fellow soldiers.

"All's quiet on the western front."

Of course, the type of hunting that Nikki tended to partake in was not quite the same as the typical hunt, but it would avail him well here. Be it with the larger firearms in broad light, or with the smaller gun in covert missions, warfare was probably not a bad place for Nikki to be.

"Good to know. Got to keep security tight." With any luck at all, easier done than said, but there was almost no chance of that kind of luck...

Dean nodded, checking the clip on his own gun and then tucking it into the small of his back.

"We can try, but with only small numbers there's no way we can keep all the entrances covered."

"Fair enough," he said, "but... hey, you have to do what you can." He shrugs. He had enough rounds for the rifle to last him through a fair number of mirrors. This felt more like it would be something like a street skirmish than a real war, not 'grand' in scale by comparison to some things, but quite possibly even more dangerous than what a war would be, a disorganized affair... along those lines. Urban 'warfare,' or a good similuation thereof.

Rizelle still felt slightly miffed that she'd decided to stay on the real side of the mirrors, though she tried to reason with herself. Mirrors were still coming onto the real side of the mansion for every real person that crossed, so she'd be able to help and defend since she'd stayed. In fact, she'd bet most of the residents that had stayed were unable to defend themselves adequately, so really, she was doing a good thing....

Well, actually, that reasoning didn't help at all. Rizelle wanted nothing more than to wreak some amount of damage, to try and vent her frustration at what the Queen had done. A good bout with a subject of the Queen would have helped incredibly.

It was with this mentality that Rizelle had wandered downstairs, a few spiders perched comfortably on her shoulders, so that she could plant some lookouts where she'd figured a few mirrors might end up. What she'd not counted on was finding a large, shiny....statue. Or, at least, what she'd first thought was a statue, until she noticed the face peeking out among the reflections of her, the "guard station" complete with food, and the two other men staring seemingly for the same reason she was.

"....Nice suit."

Dean tried not to wince, but every time he looked at the woman's arachnid body it was difficult not to shudder. In a way it was oddly beautiful and in another exceedingly creepy. He shook his head and then scowled.

"It was an idea, okay?! I had to try SOMETHING. They're probably coming over here in DROVES!"

The looks he was getting were not helping quell the doubts he already had about the suit's effectiveness. He knew he looked like a moron, but if the thing kept him safe it would be worth it. A lot of the residents here had extremely lethal mirrors. He'd need every edge he could manage.

"I know it looks dumb, but if it can up my chances of survival I'll be satisfied."

Opening the cooler, he took out a beer and opened it using one of the suit's rivets. After taking a swig he looked at Rizelle's spider and smirked.

"Using your little friends as lookouts?"

Rizelle smirked as Dean made practical use of his suit of mirrors by opening his beer. Well, at least it seemed to have a purpose, though apparently she'd missed the memo about mirrors...."How is this supposed to protect you, anyway? If someone hits you, it's likely to break off into shards and stick you instead of them."

The spiders were intelligent enough to know when they were being referred too, and chittered quietly amongst themselves. Rizelle began to stroke one with a finger as she answered. "Yes....They're excited to be of some use again."

As she spoke, the spiders seemed to....get serious, if arachnids could even do so, as she took her hand from the one spider she'd favored with her touch. They stopped their chatter and scuttled down her arms in straight lines, almost like a small, organized troop of scouts. They scattered as they hit the wall, crawling into various corners of the hall and hiding themselves in what shadows they could find. "They've been quite restless for a while, since I've not felt a need to keep an eye on anything since my arrival," the demon said by explanation. "Of course, now with these mirrors and their Queen...."

Dean sighed. "It was a theoretical idea. I'm beginning to think it was retarded. It's not practical. It's just shiney." Scowling he began to unfasten the straps and take the damn thing off. It was a good deal cooler and more comfortable without it. The suit was only a simulcrum of what armor aught to have looked like, and had been cobbled together in a hurry. Rizelle was perfectly correct in observing that it wouldn't stand up under harsh contact. In fact, now that he looked at it, Dean was sure it was likely to have fallen apart on its own, regardless of any sort of beating it might recieve. Giving the scrap pile a swift kick he turned to look at the demon and her spiders, trying once again to repress the chills.

The arachnids moved as if they'd been trained to do so, which for all Dean knew they very well could have. It was useful to have spies that could get into such small places unnoticed. "I appreciate the help. There's really no way to know who the mirrors are, but if your spiders are looking out for odd behavior it might be easier."

[OOC:Debating moving all this to one thread. Blarg.Must do.]

[OOC:Nevermind. All happening at different times.]

"You're welcome, then. I'm just happy I could do something, however small, against that Queen." Rizelle mentally checked through the eyes of her spiders, one by one; the few that she'd brought only showed her what they could of the main hall, and the others that she'd left in the sixth floor corridor and in the corners near the staircase had similarly mundane things to display. Nothing of interest was happening where they were at for the moment, it seemed. She formed a command to some of her brood to relocate themselves, give her a wider viewing range, and she knew that they would do just that without her having to monitor their progress. She'd made them, so the spiders could do no other thing besides what she wished.

"....Until I find someone from the other side, would I be intruding terribly on you if I just stayed here?" Rizelle really had nowhere else to go, and hadn't been in contact with any other resident very much for....a long time. Making small talk with the mirror-suit man seemed just as good an idea as anything else. But, then again, those shudders from him, though expected, weren't quite inviting.

"If I make you uncomfortable, feel free to say so and I'll be off."

Haruhi, the weak Haruhi had crossed over several hours ago. This left him plenty of time to play with the weaklings on this side. It wasn't that they were weak in body. No, she had gathered many strong friends in that regard. It was their minds that were weak, their souls even. If one wanted to go so far as that, which Haru didn't. Instead he'd rather have fin with one of her precious little friends.

It wasn't hard, finding one. In fact the idiot had practically pasted a sign on himself in bright reflective lights. Pity for him no one had mentioned that mirror and true self needed to be staring at one another for the mirror to return. Haruhi was nowhere near one of his mirrors and Haru wasn't planning on returning to the other side any time soon. Not when there was such a tasty little mouse just standing around and waiting for a cat.

Haru shoved his hands deep into her pockets and made his way down the stairs. Being a mirror of her he could imitate her voice perfectly. It was more fun to ruin others lives when he could do so under the guise of an innocent little girl after all. Once he'd arrived behind the man he tapped him on the shoulder, keeping his face the same as she always looked. Keeping his disguise perfect. "You're still here?"

Dean felt the tap on his shoulder and jumped slightly. Someone had gotten the drop on him. He hated that with a passion. Intent on telling the person off, he turned around, a swear loaded on his lips. He fumbled when he saw Haruhi standing there, the words leaving him in a quick embarassed exhalation.

"Oh! Haruhi! I didn't hear you." He laughed trying to recover his verbal footing. This girl, without doing anything, could make him feel vastly uncomfortable, not to mention intensely protective. "Come to take a swing at the Queen?"

He shook his head before laughing her laugh, letting his face contort into hers before talking. "What are you wearing?" He hadn't come in with a complete plan, he'd have to think on it and make it up as he went along. Of course, Haru was good at thinking on his feet. How to torture this pathetic little boy. He hadn't seen much of his interactions with her. They'd been guarded, or perhaps simply in a place with no mirrors. He would have to wing it.

Saffron was having a rough week. Between Dean's death and the Queen's newest conflict with the Mansion's guests, she was feeling extremely stressed out. She had decided that the only sensible thing to do was to let as many of her friends as possible know that she thought they were insane to try to take on their Mirror selves.

She had gone looking this morning for anyone she could find to try to stop them from going. So far, no luck. But as she entered the main hall, there was Dean, sitting armed and ready. As soon as she saw him, she started a racket.

"DEAN!! DEAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE?" She marched right up to his chair, planted herself firmly in front of him, and leaned down right into his face, bracing her arms on the chair above his shoulders. "Please tell me you aren't trying to take on the mirrors. That would be extremely stupid. Please, please, please tell me you aren't trying to get yourself killed again."

There was no way for him to stand up and defend himself without shoving Saffron away forcibly and he was dangerously close to doing so. Having people up in his face screaming like drill sargeants was not something he appreciated, especially when they were implying that he was mentally deficient.

Placing his hands firmly on her shoulders he pried her loose from the chair as he rose to stand over her.

"Don't you tell me what is and isn't stupid. I know the risks and I'm prepaired for the consequences. I'm not looking to die, but I'm not going to sit around with my thumb up my ass either."

Saffron had come prepared for this. She knew Dean wouldn't love her being in his face but she needed him off balance for her next action. Rather than yelling back, or getting angry at his reaction, she looked up at him and burst into tears. These weren't the overblown sobs of a daytime drama actress; they weren't the pouty tears of a spoiled teen throwing a tantrum; they were the tears of a terrified child.

Tears spilled from her eyes and her lips parted in a soft wail as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and cried against his solid chest. She curled her fingers into his t-shirt, not minding that it was slightly damp from his sweat as she held on as tightly as she could. Between sobs, all she said was his name, over and over again. "Dean..."

The waterworks weren't unexpected, but the terror that had caused Saffron's face to crumple had been. Now she was wailing against his chest as if he'd given her a backhanded slap across the face. It boggled his mind. For a moment she'd looked like she wanted to flee from his presence into some room where she could slam the door emphaticly, the next she had thrown herself into his chest and clung to him like her life depended on it. As a result of his confusion he couldnt decide what to do with his hands. Did he pry her off, or pat her back? This kind of thing, the awkward hug, usually happened to Sam. And weepy women were out of his realm entirely.

"Saffron....I....What are you crying for?....Is it because I yelled?"

Saffron sniffled, letting a few more tears continue to track down her cheeks but holding back on the wailing. She rubbed her cheek against Dean's chest, wiping tears off her skin even as she enjoyed the way he felt against her. Pulling back slightly, she gave a nervous look up into his eyes.

"I... I just... Dean...." She let a few more tears fall, dropping her forehead against his chest. "You died. And I'm afraid it will happen again, and I don't want anything to happen to you because I love you and then I wanted to stop you and you yelled and I don't even know what to do...." Her words faded away into more sobs as she leaned against him.

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Holding Down The Fort

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Say hello to the trap

Re: Say hello to the trap

Re: Say hello to the trap

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